At the moment, there are seven humans and four cats in the house: besides my parents, both my brothers and their respective significant others are here. And, of course, I'm here. And then there are the cats: Misty, who is getting up in years and mostly wants to be left alone; Pounce, who is a little mean and none too bright; and Thyme, who is convinced that she really could catch her tail if it would only stay still. Rick and Sarah's cat, Sake, is here for the moment, too.
I sometimes miss the dog, and the cats who have died.
It will be much quieter on Christmas Day, since my siblings are scattering to other surroundings. So we'll be moving our local traditions up a day, and after that the house population will be down to three humans, three cats, and a handful of errant moths. We humans will probably read for most of the day; and the cats will probably sleep for most of the day. The moths will do whatever it is that moths do.
With Scott and Brittany, I watched a tape of Scott's black belt testing. It was several years ago, but neither Brittany nor I had seen it before. I wrapped gifts -- books, of course, since they are easy to pack and since I'm not a terribly inspired gift-giver -- and I helped cut vegetables. I checked e-mail. And I sat and read, and listened to the rain.
I have work with me. I have one or two of the reference books which seemed most immediately relevant, and a few papers. I have my laptop, my pens, and my pad. I'm spending two weeks at home, in all, and I've no doubt that I'll be happy to have my work with me before I go back. But for now, I'm just happy to visit with people and cats, to sit and read, and to listen to the rain.